


Joan's Return

by TeamFerguson



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamFerguson/pseuds/TeamFerguson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could Joan Ferguson actually make it back to Wentworth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Who can wait 9 flipping months for more Wentworth action? Not this chick!  
> Be kind ;)....it's only fiction.

1  
As Joan started to head for the exit of Wentworth Correctional Centre she turned to Governor Vera Bennett and gave her the winningest smile she could stand. “See you all soon,” she crooned. With those parting words, a Wentworth Correctional officer let her out the door to the free world. As she walked out into the sunshine, the smile on her face faded. Something did not feel right. Ferguson walked towards the street where a van was parked at the curb. Coming around the front of the van she froze, looking at the red-headed woman coming from the opposite direction, behind the vehicle. Bea Smith. Bea moved forward until there were only a few feet of space between them. In those few seconds, Joan clearly read the intent on Bea’s face.  
Instantly, Joan went through how this dual for survival would turn out. Either she lived, and Bea Smith died; or Bea Smith lived and Joan died. One person was going to cease to exist, no matter how it played out.  
Ferguson took a step forward and Bea mirrored her action. With a shake of her head Joan commanded, “Out of my way.”  
Nothing existed in that moment except Bea and Joan, Joan and Bea. “Are you scared?” Bea asked, a smile playing on her lips and shaking her head ‘yes’ because she already knew the answer. With a flick of her wrist, the screwdriver slid out of the cuff of her shirt. Ferguson’s eyes followed every movement with keen observation. She recognized the signs. Her breathing quickened, she could feel the pulse in her throat, and every nerve and muscle in her body felt alive, stretched tight with electricity. Joan felt this way before she faced a worthy opponent at a fencing match.  
Bea continued to smile as she asked Joan, “What’s it like…hm, knowing you’re gonna die?”  
Ferguson knew Smith’s hatred for her ran deep, but she still gave her a warning, “You’re being very stupid.”  
Smith took a couple steps forward, firming up her grip on the screwdriver, “Is your chest tight?...Heart pumping in your ears?...Fight or flight.” This is what it was coming down to. “This is it Freak. This is for every life you’ve taken or fucked over. Yeah, what was that girl’s name at Blackmoor…Jianna? Hm, Simmo, Jodi…”  
At the mention of Jianna’s name, Ferguson felt the mask of indifference slip, ever so slightly. The small slip was quickly replaced with the start of a smile when Bea named her lover as Ferguson’s latest victim. “Allie,” finished Bea as she rushed at Joan, raising the screwdriver. “I’m going to finish this,” Bea said to Ferguson so she would know exactly why she was doing this.  
All her years of fencing, all the training, came together in that one moment. Ferguson easily caught Bea’s wrist as she lunged forward. Joan Ferguson’s height made it easy to pull Bea’s wrist above her head and wrench the screwdriver from her hand. Black eyes never left Bea’s face as Joan pushed her away. Ferguson held the makeshift weapon out in front of her, silently telling Smith she had a choice to make. Words really weren’t even needed at this point. Someone was going to die…

Joan sat at the defense table with an expressionless face. She was tired of being here. Tired of having to defend herself against these people. Yes, she had done some terrible things in the past. For one reason or another, she had been found not guilty of those crimes. That thought almost made her smile.  
Every horrible act Joan Ferguson had perpetrated was always within the limits of the law. Well, if those laws were twisted, tortured, and made to stretch until they almost broke. Sometimes, they did break, but not enough that she got her hands really dirty. Every crime, every deed could be explained or pinned on someone else; and if that didn’t work, she could distort the truth until was unrecognizable, or deny, deny, deny.  
Every decision Joan Ferguson made was always for the betterment of her staff, her inmates, and her prison. Hard decisions were a part of her job. Correc-T-ion, previous job. The status regarding her previous position was a matter she still intended to rectify. Governor Ferguson still believed in the words she spoke to her staff on her first day at Wentworth Correctional Centre, “Society has deemed these women defective, and it’s our job to fix them. Not to pander, to befriend, to indulge, or to accommodate. We exis-T to correc-T.”  
The voice of Joan’s lawyer broke her reverie. Putting his arm on the back of her chair he said, “After the CCTV footage has been reviewed, the judge should rule there are no grounds for prosecution, okay Joan?” Joan glanced at the arm on the back of her chair, causing him to retract it as if it had been bitten.  
“I’m extremely aware of how these things should proceed Mr. Grey. Forgive me if I do not have complete faith in our judicial system,” said Joan matter-of-factly.  
An hour later, the judge announced he found no proof of a criminal case, this was a clear case of self- defense. Much to the chagrin of the prosecution, any and all charges would be dropped.  
2  
Vera pulled up to the curb in front of Joan’s house. As she got out of her car, Shayne came blasting out the front door yelling over his shoulder. Vera didn’t catch what the young man said but from his body language could tell he was angry. Almost as if to prove his point, he yelled at Vera to “Piss off,” as he stormed off down the street.  
The door to Joan’s house stood wide open. Vera knocked tentatively as she stepped just inside the door. Joan’s home looked exactly the same as the night of that horrible dinner. The only difference Vera could see was the beautiful, old violin that had been on display and the fish bowl were gone. “Joan? Hello?” Joan heard someone calling her name from the front door. Who on earth could that be she thought as she turned into her foyer, a puzzled look crossed her features, “Vera?”  
“Um, hello Joan. How have you been?” Vera said while trying not to look too nervous. Joan continued to look at Vera as if she couldn’t decide if she were really standing in front of her. “Um, is everything okay? I just saw Shayne leave, and he looked pretty angry,” Vera paused for a second, “and your front door was left standing open. I…I was just making sure everything was alright.”  
A flicker of irritation crossed Joan’s features so quickly Vera wasn’t sure if that’s what she had seen or not. “Yes, Vera, everything is fine. Shayne is a young man that thinks he has life figured out, and doesn’t like it when proven wrong,” Joan said smugly. Joan’s tone turned cold, “Now, I know you did not stop by just to be social, so…” She waved her hand in the air indicating Vera to continue, “the reason behind your visit is what?”  
Vera acted offended, “Wow! No time for pleasantries anymore? Can I at least come in?” Now it was Joan’s turn to act offended, “Really, Vera? After everything we’ve been through as of late, you think I should be pleasant with you?”  
“Yes, really Joan!” said the shorter woman, real annoyance creeping into her voice. “It’s called being mannerly.” She stepped into Joan’s personal space, Joan didn’t budge, and felt her heart rate quicken. To try to soften her moment of bravado, she lowered her voice slightly and took a step back, “Joan I’ve seen you cut staff, inmates and reporters off at the knees, but you always did it in a polite way.” Vera made a stop gesture with her hand, trying to redirect her approach, “I’m not here to argue, or start trouble. Truly, I just wanted to see how you were…”  
The ex-governor hadn’t thawed at all as she cut Vera off, “Or did you come over here hoping to find out what I told the investigators looking into how Bea Smith escaped, and then tried to kill me?” She spit the question out like it was venom.  
Vera looked shocked, her mouth drawing into an “O.” It felt like she had been hit hard in the gut. Of course, she had been on the receiving end of the governor…ex-governor…inmate…ex-inmate’s controlled fury before. She’d have thought by now, after all this time, the initial impact wouldn’t be quite so bad. But then again, Joan did have a way of cutting down to the core of any situation.  
Vera yelled at her ex-mentor, tears starting to well up in her big blue eyes, “Joan, I looked up to you! I admired you and how you ran the prison! I supported you with everything you did, even the truly questionable, devious shit you pulled! I trusted you!”  
The current governor of Wentworth Correctional Centre thought this impromptu visit would be well tolerated by the former inmate. Why did she expect that? This is the Joan Fucking Ferguson she was dealing with, not exactly some run of the mill parolee she just happened to think about checking in on. Still, she thought things would have gone more smoothly. Didn’t Joan want to know what was going on at her former prison? Why did the woman who could draw you in, get you to tell her things you would never tell another soul, and then turn them around to cut your own throat not want to cooperate now? Could it be because Ferguson had been cleared of any wrong doing? Maybe she just wanted to be left alone, not have anything to do with her former prison, or anyone that had been within those walls.  
Ferguson’s eyes were unmoving, glazed glass studying Vera’s face. The intimidating woman could see the physical pain this was causing her former deputy. Just like with Bea Smith, she closed the distance between them to deliver the final, gut twisting blow. “And I trusted you, Vera, until you broke that trust.” Ferguson was silent for a moment, remembering how Vera’s betrayal felt. “ Vera, I truly had a vision for us. We had a very bright future together. Two powerful women, running the prison like a well-oiled machine. In sync on every level. But you weren’t strong enough to grab ahold of that power Vera. You just didn’t have it in you, did you? Your mother was right, you are weak. I should have listened to her instead of defending you against her. You are such a disappointment.”  
Vera stood unmoving, staring at Ferguson. Vera was so tired. She wasn’t sure she could move, and the look of disgust on the previous governor’s face was felt as though she had been hit again.  
Joan’s demeanor went back to that of a polite hostess seeing her guests off for the evening, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe you know the way out.” Joan started to usher Vera out of her house, but Vera stopped and turned to look at Joan. The small woman’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “I cared about you.” With that last statement, Vera turned and did not look back even as she heard Joan shut the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next couple of weeks, Governor Bennett tried very hard to banish her thoughts of the ebony haired amazon woman. It seemed next to impossible, and it certainly did not help that every corner of Ferguson’s old office, now Vera’s office, reminded her of time spent with the formidable woman. Governor Bennett was very aware the previous governor wanted her job and title back where it belonged, on the name badge of her impeccable suit, and the door to the governor’s office at Wentworth Correctional Centre. Vera had no doubt Joan Ferguson would be ruthless in her bid to be reinstated, but she had no intention of giving up her job. She’s done a good job as governor, especially when you considered how she had started the job. Having to deal with a major fire, and a governor that had seemingly gone mad, did not make for a smooth transition into her new role; it was more like sink or swim.

Vera Bennett knew Joan Ferguson better than anyone at Wentworth. She had been her faithful deputy for nearly over a year. During that time, she studied the fierce woman and how she had the uncanny ability to know every single detail about the goings on in her prison. Vera could not understand why Joan had not tried to exploit her little, unplanned visit to the fullest extent. She half expected to be tied to a chair and interrogated under a hot spotlight. Something was off.

Joan had to have a way of knowing what was happening at the prison, but how? It had to be someone with firsthand knowledge, but who? Vera ran through the checklist of women the former inmate had contact with during her recent stay. She seriously doubted it was one of the inmates, the governor figured because of Bea Smith’s death, Joan would be lucky if one of them didn’t try to have her killed. Some of the women in Wentworth had some very scary associations with the members of the crime community. Of course, Joan had some questionable associations of her own. So, the inmate angle wasn’t panning out.

Ferguson had no friends to speak of, or at least that Vera knew about. She would bet money that the list of Joan’s friends was a short, or possibly non-existent one. Plus, unless they were in corrections, they would have no knowledge of prison life, and all that left were her staff. Could it be a member of her staff?

Linda Miles could be bought if the price was right. Even though as an officer Vera had brought “contraband” in for a few of the inmates, namely Jacs Holt, but Linda Miles could be considered the Queen of Contraband. The governor didn’t even want to think about the things Linda Miles had brought into the prison, or that may still be coming into her prison. Miles had been rostered to guard Ferguson when she first went in general population. She had interactions with her on a regular basis. Truthfully, the governor didn’t think it would be Linda Miles for the simple fact she had experienced the horrible things Ferguson had done with a front row seat.

It definitely wouldn’t be Will Jackson; his hate of Joan Ferguson ran just as deep as Bea Smith’s.

Vera thought of who had the most contact with Ferguson among her officers. Jake Stewart came to mind front and center.

Jake Stewart had come to Wentworth Correctional Centre from Walford, a men’s prison. He came highly recommended from Walford’s governor; He was a worthwhile addition to her staff, and he had a good rapport with the women. Mr. Stewart had volunteered to lead the group of officers charged with the task of guarding Ferguson when she was held in medical isolation. The amount of time spent alone with her was considerable, and Ferguson could talk to anyone, get inside their head, and manipulate any situation. He had been warned not to let Ferguson get in his head; Governor Bennett would not put it past Joan Ferguson to try and sell officer Stewart a sob story.

Immediately, Governor Bennett radioed for officer Stewart to come to her office. She needed to figure out Ferguson’s plan.

“Yes, governor,” said officer Jake Stewart walking through the governor’s office door. “Have a seat Mr. Stewart,” Vera motioned to the chairs in front of her desk. As Jake sat down in a chair, Vera came around the front of the desk and leaned against it, folding her arms across her chest. “Mr. Stewart…Jake,” began Vera, “I know you spent a lot of time with Joan Ferguson when she was in medical.” Jake shifted slightly in his seat, wondering where the governor was going with this. “Um, yes governor I did. I volunteered to lead the team assigned to her.” Vera hastily retorted, “Yes, yes, I _know_ that.” Sighing, Vera put her index finger to the middle of her forehead, trying to think of the best way to approach Jake. She decided to be direct and to the point, “Did she ever talk about her plans after her trial? Of course, that was assuming she would be found not guilty.” Officer Stewart looked questioningly at Vera, “What exactly are you getting at? I’m not sure what you’re after governor.” Vera started to speak and officer Stewart stood up abruptly, “Are you asking me if I _was_ or _am_ on Joan Ferguson’s payroll? Because that’s what it sounds like you’re insinuating governor.” Jake knew this moment was important, he had to make sure Vera believed he had no connection to Ferguson. He had escaped death with Ferguson’s help, he sure as hell wasn’t going to bite the hand that saved him. Besides, he held up his end of the deal. Jake killed Nils Jesper so he couldn’t testify against Ferguson. As far as he was concerned, his dealings with Joan Ferguson were done.

He was angry now, “I stepped up to help you with Ferguson because I didn’t have a history with her. I made sure that woman was safe at _all_ times, even though I’m sure the other inmates would have been more than happy to have me leave her unattended, even for a minute. But I didn’t…” Vera stepped in front of Jake Stewart and put her hand up, “Mr. Stewart, that’s enough! I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m asking a simple question. As governor, it is my responsibility to know everything that goes on in my prison. As an officer, it is your duty to answer my questions. I can’t be everywhere at once, so I depend on my officers to fill in the gaps, and I expect you not to question why I ask the things I do.” As soon as the words left her mouth she mentally rolled her eyes at herself, _really Bennett_ , you sound just like _her_! “So,” Vera moved back around behind her desk, and planted her hands on either side of the leather desk pad, “Mr. Stewart, again, did Ms. Ferguson say anything regarding her future plans?” She sat down in her chair, and looked at him expectantly. “Governor, Ms. Ferguson did not say anything that I haven’t already told you about,” Jake replied in a quiet voice.

“Vera…” Jake met Vera’s icy stare, “…I mean governor…” He looked at Vera apologetically, “Look, Vera, can we start all over? I’m not really sure where things went so wrong with us…” The governor interrupted him, softening her tone she said, “Mr. Stewart, are you talking about the few times we went out?” Jake nodded yes and she continued, “I think it’s best if we keep things purely professional.” With a flick of her wrist she dismissed officer Stewart.


	3. Chapter 3

3

In order for the current governor of Wentworth to keep the previous governor from getting her job back, she needed a plan. Vera couldn’t say for sure that Joan had no chance of being reinstated. Reinstatement would mean having to go before the board, essentially pleading her case. When you looked at the whole picture, to a normal person, Ferguson’s misdeeds would seem more than reason enough to never let her step foot in a prison again; but she _had_ been acquitted of all her charges. How convenient the star witness had been shot, and the vehicle he was in blew up.

Vera knew she would have to get up close and personal with Joan to even begin to learn what the manipulative woman was planning. She needed to become Joan’s friend; Did Joan Ferguson even know _how_ to be someone’s friend?

From her own experiences with the formidable woman, she knew Joan kept a high, hard wall up at all times, but she knew there were cracks; she had seen them with her own eyes. It was time to exploit those cracks, see what they opened up in the impenetrable looking woman. Things were not always what they seemed, even though the woman was meticulous in everything she did, and would stop at virtually nothing to achieve her goals. Sometimes, Vera thought Joan Ferguson was invincible, wondering what it felt like to _always_ get what you wanted with no regard for anyone else. Vera had always done what was best for everyone else, with no thought of her own needs. Well, maybe not _any_ thought of her needs, but she never had enough backbone to speak up. That was the old Vera Bennett. This Vera Bennett was going to take a page from Ferguson’s playbook and make sure she kept what was rightfully hers…at all costs.

The governor picked up her cell phone and dialed Joan’s number. She thought calling from her personal cell would give her a better chance of Joan answering.

“Hello, Vera,” Joan all but hissed the greeting. Vera tried to keep her voice neutral, “Hello Joan, how are you?”

“Vera,” Joan let out a long sigh, “cut with the ‘just calling to see how you are’ bit. What do you want? I have little patience for this game, just get to the point.”

For this to work, she needed to be aggressive, not back down, and not take ‘no’ for an answer. Trying not to become flustered, Vera quickly collected her thoughts, “Um, I just want to talk to you about coming back as governor.” There was silence on the other end of the phone, and she knew she had Joan’s attention now. “Well, Vera, by all means, speak,” she could hear the small smile in Joan’s voice, knowing the smile was playing on those luscious lips as well. “Well, Joan, this isn’t something I want to do over the phone, I think it’s best if I speak with you in person,” said Vera, a smile on her lips too.

                                                                 ----------------------------------------------------

Joan answered the door before Vera could knock. Vera was surprised to find Joan with her hair down, in a comfortable looking white, jersey cotton, v-neck, long sleeve shirt, and form fitting jeans. The material of the shirt clung to Joan’s curves in all the right places. The neck of the shirt was lined in pearlized, white buttons that accentuated the swell of firm breasts, ending their journey at the start of tantalizing cleavage. Vera’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the length of long, denim covered legs from ankle to hip. Wow! Joan looked good thought Vera, feeling small butterflies flit around the insides of her belly. Were the butterflies because of how Joan looked, or because Vera was nervous about the conversation she was about to have with Joan? She decided it was a little of both.

Vera followed Joan into her kitchen. “Coffee, water… vodka?” Joan said with a smile, motioning for Vera to sit at the breakfast island separating the kitchen and dining room. Making herself comfortable in the chair at the end of the counter Vera replied, “Water is fine. Thank you.” She looked behind her at the dining room table, bringing back the memory of the horrible dinner that changed their relationship for the worst.

Joan opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for both her and Vera. “So, how are you, Vera?” Joan handed her the bottle of water, “I can only imagine how stressed you must be with everything going on.” There was a genuine look of concern on the older woman’s face. Vera looked at Joan smiling slightly, “You know how it goes,” she sipped her water.

“Hm, that I do,” Joan looked pensively at the young woman. In that moment, Vera felt Joan sizing her up, she could almost see the calculating woman going through all possibilities of the outcome of this visit; like the moves a chess master would consider before striking his opponent. The governor of Wentworth had no intention of losing this chess game, so she made the opening move.

Not wanting to mince words, or beat around the bush, Vera said, “Joan, I know you want the governorship of Wentworth back.” Joan stood completely still, a blank look on her face, waiting for Vera to finish. “I’m telling you now, as long as I have a say, you will _never_ be governor of Wentworth again.” Vera noticed the darkness coming over the features of Joan’s face. There was the distinct impression a war was going on in the mind of Joan Ferguson. “Vera,” Joan leaned forward so she was closer to the smaller woman, “ _You_ may never be the governor of Wentworth again. Depending on the outcome of the police investigation, you may be a _resident_ of Wentworth…although, I’m sure the department of corrections wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.” Her tone was filled with such arrogance, but Vera expected no less from the masterful manipulator. Vera didn’t dare move an inch from Joan, she would not be intimidated. “Everything that happened was on CCTV…” Vera started. Joan quickly interrupted, “Oh, but that’s a lie, isn’t it? Hhmm,” Joan tapped her finger on her lips, “I’ve heard there’s no footage of events that happened _inside_ the prison. I wonder why that is, Vera?” Joan raised an eyebrow, and cocked her head to the side, waiting for an answer.

Vera’s head was spinning, how in the HELL did this woman know these things!? She couldn’t just be guessing. Even if Vera’s face hadn’t completely shattered the moment Joan stated the truth about the CCTV footage, there was no way she could know that without being told by someone.

Joan came around the side of the counter, leaving very little space between her and Vera. If the woman sitting down moved forward slightly, she could touch Joan’s thighs with her knees. “You’re in a tight spot Vera,” Joan looked down on her former deputy, “Was it you that let Bea Smith out of the prison to try and kill me?” There was no malice in Joan’s question, she was simply asking.

“No,” Vera had to fight to control the tenseness in her voice. “Well then who was it?” asked Joan. “I-I don’t know how she got out,” replied Vera, “You know how innovative inmates can be. I don’t know that anyone let her out.”

Joan had turned and headed to the fridge. Opening the freezer, she pulled out two frozen shot glasses and a bottle of high quality vodka. “Honestly, Vera, if you’re going to lie, you need to make it believable…or _somewhat_ believable.” Joan picked up the two glasses and bottle of vodka, heading for the living room, “Come. Let’s get comfortable. I think you’re going to be here for a little while.”

What just happened? Vera watched Joan walk into the living room, putting the glasses and bottle on the table beside the couch. She had been in Joan’s home for all of 30 minutes, and felt like she had gone 3 rounds with Mike Tyson, losing every single round. She should just head for the door right now, but found herself joining Joan on her living room couch instead.

                        

 


	4. Chapter 4

Vera knew she should have left, but there was a pull to Joan Ferguson she could not resist. The enigmatic woman had captured Vera’s attention from her very first day at Wentworth; her imposing stature, her confident strut, the way she spoke, and her intense gaze with those dark piercing eyes, immediately drew Vera into Joan Ferguson’s orbit. Even with all the terrible things she knew Joan had gotten away with, Vera was still enamored with the older woman. Vera had tried to forget Joan Ferguson with little success.

Joan Ferguson was the first person to ever notice Vera Bennett. The ex-governor saw the potential in Vera to be more than the timid, quiet, unassuming deputy governor, and had started to help her transform into a confident woman. The emergence of that confidence allowed Governor Ferguson to place real trust in Vera… trusted that Vera would be loyal…and then Vera had betrayed her. But, Vera had to do it. It was the right thing to do, she had done it for the good of the inmates, and other officers; to keep them safe from Joan Ferguson. It had nothing to do with revenge for Joan’s rejection during that _god awful_ dinner. Vera knew she was a better person than that…right?

 

“Drink?” Joan asked while pouring the cold, clear liquid into a chilled shot glass. Looking at Vera expectantly, Joan crossed her legs and patted the seat next to her on the black leather couch. Vera declined the offer of vodka with a shake of her head, “I’m good with my water.”

Vera situated herself so there was exactly one cushion between her and Joan. Really, she would have preferred to sit on the opposite side of the room; sitting this close to Joan Ferguson was dangerous enough, but add in the heat radiating from her tall frame, and it was downright terrifying. Actually, sitting even this close made her feel dizzy, and she had to concentrate to stay focused. The older woman had a certain aura, for good or bad, but you couldn’t help but be drawn in by her. She was determined to make Joan understand she was dead serious about keeping her from reclaiming the governorship at Wentworth.

“So,” Joan lifted the chilled shot glass to her lips, tossing it back in one smooth motion, not even the hint of a grimace touched her face as the liquid made a fiery trail down her throat, “Let’s try again.” Ferguson looked at Vera with steely, black eyes and demanded, “This time, _do no-T lie_.”

“Joan, I’m not here to talk about Smith, or if someone let her out,” she explained slowly and quietly. Vera tried to return the seriousness of Joan’s intimidating stare, “I’m here to talk about why you’re trying to come back as governor of Wentworth.”

Joan extended her long arm across the back of the couch almost touching Vera with her equally long fingers, “Okay Vera, obviously you think I have some evil plan to get the governorship, _which is rightfully mine,_ back.”

“Don’t you?” Vera interrupted.

A small chuckle came from the older woman’s full lips that were starting to smile at the current governor, “Oh, Vera. Do you really think I’m truly evil? Is that all you see?” Vera looked questioningly at Joan, “Are…are you seriously implying the _‘things’,”_ Vera emphasized with air quotes, “you’ve done aren’t evil or malicious?” Mimicking Vera’s air quotes, irritation creeping into her voice, Joan replied, “You mean the _‘things_ ’ I’ve supposedly done. The _‘things’_ I’ve been cleared of?” Never taking her eyes off Joan’s, Vera stated with a confidence she really didn’t feel, “Yes.”

A look of surprise at Vera’s boldness made Joan’s eyes crinkle for less than a nanosecond, “Well, Vera, I see you’ve worn your big girl panties today haven’t you?”

The smirk spreading across Joan’s fine features infuriated Vera. She wanted to grab the woman sitting opposite her by the shoulders and shout in her face, but she fought hard to keep her fisted hands in her lap. If she achieved nothing else today, Vera wanted, no, needed Joan to take her seriously. “People change Joan! I’ve changed! I’m not that naïve deputy you first met! I don’t have a naïve bone in my body anymore!” The governor was quite pleased with herself, she was standing her ground. “Joan, I want answers.” Vera’s voice took on a pleading quality, immediately making the ex-governor angry.

Normally, Joan found it pleasant when people begged, hearing the desperate cries of the weak usually sent a nice warm feeling spreading throughout her body. This was coming from the woman she took under her wing, mentored, and almost gave absolute trust. Vera had been doing so well, but this was not acceptable behavior, not from _her_ former deputy, the woman who had taken her place as governor of Wentworth. Obviously, Ms. Bennett needed to be reminded you never show weakness. Especially, when it allows your opponent to gain the upper hand. Joan wondered just how far Vera was willing to be pushed. Her tone turned condescending, “What? Do you want me to confess my sins? You want me to seek absolution from you? That way, when you’re forced to make morally questionable decisions you might not feel so guilty, hmm?”

Vera sensed Joan’s anger towards her, but she wasn’t going to give up until she got what she came for, or was shown the door. Until either of those two things happened, Vera Bennett was not moving. “No!” She took a deep breath, “Again, like I said before, I want to know why you think you should be able to come back as governor after everything you’ve done.”

“Since the fire, _you’ve_ been governor. Does it assuage your guilt to blame every bad thing that’s happened at Wentworth on me?” Joan looked expectantly at Vera for her answer. Vera’s jaw worked up and down, small exhalations escaping every time her lips parted as if she were going to say something. Joan continued, “Tell you what Vera, I also want answers.” Joan sat up, unfolding her long legs, and poured herself another shot, “Sure I can’t interest you?” She raised her glass towards Vera, “You may need it,” Joan winked at Vera before tipping the shot back.

Was Joan Ferguson _flirting_ with her, or _warning_ her? Could Vera handle the truth from Ferguson? She knew the woman’s ego was huge, and her view of things were skewed at best; but maybe, just maybe she could get some questions answered.

A predatory grin graced Joan’s face, “First things first Vera. Strip.” Vera looked incredulously at Joan, not sure she heard her correctly, “Excuse me?” Joan looked at her and spoke as if she were asking her to pass the salt, “You heard me, I said strip.” Joan watched Vera’s face, “You know the drill Vera, you _do_ run a prison.” The statement was true, but the disdain in Joan’s voice was unmistakable. This demanding woman who had put her through a thousand kinds of hell was still trying punish her, still trying to make sure Vera knew who was in control. Barely contained fury worked its way from the top of Vera’s head all the way to her toes. She all but screamed at her, “You want me to submit to a strip search? Why in the hell would I do that?” Joan knew Vera was starting to panic, the veins in her neck were much more prominent, and her breathing had rapidly increased. “You want our little conversation to continue, correc-T?” Joan’s serene face was looking at her for confirmation. “Yes, but…,” Vera took a deep breath, “A strip search?”

“Well, Vera, I’m not as trusting of you as I once was,” Joan piercingly replied. If Joan Ferguson were a superhero, her super power would be the ability to shoot knives out of her eyes, thought Vera as a half gasp, half strangled laugh made its way out of her constricting throat. Joan went on, “How do I know you’re not wearing a wire?” Vera abruptly interrupted, “Because I’m not!” Joan was nonplussed, “I don’t know that. As a matter of fact, I don’t know you very well at all anymore!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Vera deadpanned. “So, what’s it going to be?” Joan made that familiar juggling motion with her hands.

Once again, anger surged through Vera, “Why are fucking with me like this?” Joan stonily replied, “I assure you Vera, I am no-T ‘fucking’ with you.” The look on Joan’s face told Vera she was serious, and quickly losing patience; any minute she might ask her to leave so Vera stood up, and moved to the end of the coffee table.

Hesitantly, Vera started to unbutton her shirt. As her fingers fumbled with the buttons, Vera made a mental note to _never, ever_ wear a button up shirt around Joan Ferguson _, EVER_ again! Almost as if Joan had read her mind she said, “Off with it, this isn’t a strip show.” She wondered how many times that phrase had come out of Joan’s mouth as her shirt was laid on the arm of the couch. She slipped her shoes off, and with a knowing look from Joan, pushed them neatly under the table. Trying to ignore the red heat from her face and chest, Vera quickly unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them down and kicking them off at the same time. Vera Bennett would swear until her dying day that as she stood half naked in front of Joan Ferguson, she witnessed the icy woman swallow hard, as if she were nervous.

Joan tried to conceal the surprise she felt on seeing her ex-deputy half naked. Vera had a very nice body; well defined arms and legs, breasts that were larger than Joan originally thought, a taut stomach, narrow hips, and slender waist. The Wentworth officer’s uniform did nothing to accentuate this small, but lovely creature’s body. Joan motioned with her index finger for Vera to turn around. Vera turned, and Joan couldn’t help but smile. What a pleasant surprise! Vera’s back half was just as pleasing as her front half!

Joan knew the likelihood of Vera wearing a wire, or having any such device at all, was extremely unlikely. Ferguson may not be the governor anymore, but _nothing_ happened unless she allowed it. She would give Vera what she wanted, but it would be on her terms, not Vera’s.

Joan decided to push Vera a little further, this would leave no doubt in the young woman’s mind who was in control. “Turn back around,” Vera complied and turned, “Now show me the cups of your bra, Vera.” With those words the hot flush returned to Vera’s neck. “W-what?” Vera stuttered, her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

“I need to make sure you don’t have anything in your bra.” Joan crossed her legs, “Vera, either you show me, or I can _frisk_ you. I’m extending you a professional courtesy not making you submit to an actual strip search. Mmm, more like a strip _look_ , but if you’d prefer…,” Joan trailed off knowing full well what Vera’s response would be. A procedural strip search was demoralizing enough, at least this way, Vera could keep some of her pride. Not much, but just a bit.

Vera knew, that Joan knew she was playing out of her league even though most of her nervousness had been replaced with indignation. So, in a moment of insanity or bravery, Vera decided to reach behind her, unhook her bra, and take it off. In one swift movement, Vera hung her bra off her index finger and outstretched arm. “Happy now?” Vera asked, hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

Joan took in the sight of Vera’s pert breasts, and rock hard nipples, “My, my, Vera, you are full of surprises today.” Joan could not hide the salacious smile spreading across her face.


End file.
